


drifting away (i am one with the sunset)

by BertholdtFubar, ohssens



Category: TWICE (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Eventual Smut, F/F, Idol x Fan AU, Idol!Tzuyu, Light BDSM, Praise Kink, Smut, Strap-Ons, Vaginal Fingering, Weirdness, Worship, mega fan chaeyoung
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-12
Updated: 2020-09-15
Packaged: 2021-03-06 20:22:08
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 12,126
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26424811
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BertholdtFubar/pseuds/BertholdtFubar, https://archiveofourown.org/users/ohssens/pseuds/ohssens
Summary: Chaeyoung is Tzuyu's biggest fan; her walls are adorned with Tzuyu's merchandise, and her discography plays on repeat. She wonders why she hasn't met Tzuyu yet.
Relationships: Chou Tzuyu/Son Chaeyoung
Comments: 18
Kudos: 75





	1. 1/2

**Author's Note:**

  * For [wvenivies](https://archiveofourown.org/users/wvenivies/gifts).



Son Chaeyoung has always been a big fan of Chou Tzuyu.

_Always._

She doesn’t actually quite remember what her life had been like before Chou Tzuyu. Chaeyoung’s immense dedication had changed her life greatly; every breath, project, and activity she committed herself to was ultimately for Chou Tzuyu. Her last paycheck? She used it to buy the entire merchandise line from Tzuyu’s online concert collection. The lottery prize she won 6 months ago, enough to cover tuition fees for an entire semester in TWICE University? Chou Tzuyu. The weekly bank deposit she still receives from her parents, because they fear that Chaeyoung’s measly salary from being an independent artist would not be enough to cover her meals? Yes, Chou Tzuyu. From collecting Chou Tzuyu’s latest photobooks and calendars and CD’s, Chaeyoung’s dedication to Chou Tzuyu is relentless, ardent, and… passionate.

It might all sound absurd, so Chaeyoung often has to remind herself that this is real: that she has gone lengths in her achievements– namely dedicating her life to Chou Tzuyu. The numerous posters plastered all over her wall is evidence of that: so much so that Chaeyoung had forgotten the original painted color of her walls, now a mystery beneath the vinyl sheets that she meticulously stuck on the concrete using sticky tack. Her dingy studio apartment was now filled with breathtaking images of Chou Tzuyu onstage that her walls no longer seemed painted, but covered with Chou Tzuyu-designed wallpaper. There’s a sense of achievement that filled her chest when she looks at her posters, especially when she remembered the hours she had spent unrolling them and sticking them to her walls. 

With her two tiny hands, she will do everything to materialize her dedication to Chou Tzuyu. It's what Tzuyu deserves. 

From her songs to the sophisticated way she moves onstage, Chou Tzuyu is _perfect._ Barely human. Chaeyoung had been a fan of Chou Tzuyu for years and she had religiously followed her from debut to present, and Chaeyoung had not seen a single flaw of Tzuyu. Chou Tzuyu is a _star_ , a transcendent experience ready to grace all the citizens of her land. 

But despite her rank in the military that is Chou Tzuyu's army… it was just another night for Son Chaeyoung. 

The warm air that blew in her window stuck to her skin, making it difficult to fall asleep. She hadn’t felt the cool breeze of an air conditioner’s swing in months because she’s just entirely stopped paying her utility bills. She had also only gone out of her room twice in the previous months, only ever reaching her apartment’s lobby when she occasionally ordered her meals to claim instead of cooking herself some dollar value instant ramen. Oh well. She’d read somewhere that heat inhibits slumber, but she doesn’t pay it mind because, really, all she needs to sleep is Chou Tzuyu’s cold voice flowing in her ears, like an unending lullaby. 

It didn’t even matter what Tzuyu sang about, or how many times Chaeyoung had listened to it. Tzuyu’s voice never grew tiring.

And as Chaeyoung continued to listen to a repeat of Tzuyu’s latest album with her huge headphones over her ears, sprawled out on the sheets in a humid and sticky mess, she closed her eyes. She thought about Tzuyu again- not because it was routine or that she wanted to, but because she _needed_ to. Yes, Chou Tzuyu was a need. Chaeyoung needed Tzuyu. 

She doesn’t even remember the last time she had purchased anything, besides cans of soda and instant food, that didn’t involve Tzuyu… but she takes pride in that fact, because her commitment to Tzuyu has also given Chaeyoung a sense of intelligence she never even knew she had. Through Tzuyu, Chaeyoung has single handedly debunked the theory of Maslow’s hierarchy of needs. According to Son Chaeyoung, first of all, there was no hierarchy of needs, and it was definitely not in the shape of a triangle. Second of all, there was no theory, because it was now a law. She's proved it once. The law of psychological and biological needs was in the shape of a 5 foot 7 Taiwanese woman named Chou Tzuyu. And it’s law because Chaeyoung herself has personally witnessed it once: it was on a particularly sweltering July day when she skipped three consecutive meals, alternating between crying and attempting to watch a two-hour length episode of Tzuyu’s charity work experience through her tears. Chaeyoung, being Tzuyu’s biggest fan, of course, vividly remembers every second of the emotional documentary about Tzuyu’s obviously voluntary almsgiving, ‘ _Third World in a Day’_. 

Chou Tzuyu has the face of an angel, and a heart of gold. 

“Tzuyu…” Chaeyoung whispered to herself, clutching onto her phone streaming Tzuyu’s album. “Wherever you are, I love you…” 

That is the last thought Chaeyoung has for the day, until she successfully falls asleep. Another day in Son Chaeyoung’s life with little to no meaning besides Chou Tzuyu. 

  
  
  
  
  
  
  


The next day, Chaeyoung woke up from the sound of her doorbell blaring. 

She stretched and shifted in bed with no sense of urgency whatsoever, because she already knew who was behind her apartment door. It was Dahyun, the woman she has grown to suddenly befriend from the past few years. 

Dahyun started visiting Chaeyoung regularly, ever since Chaeyoung had dropped out of university halfway through the first semester of her junior year, and moved out of her parents’ house to live in this tiny, congenial room that she now calls home. Coincidentally, it was also when Chaeyoung had discovered Chou Tzuyu and decided to dedicate her lifestyle to the idol. It was all so timely, Chaeyoung can’t help but think that not only did Tzuyu give her knowledge, but friendship as well! 

Dahyun likes to joke that she and Chaeyoung aren’t really friends, and that she was only getting paid by Chaeyoung’s worrying parents to visit her every Thursday through the country's biggest social welfare company, all the while bringing her cash and home cooked meals, and making sure her mini-refrigerator wasn’t empty. Dahyun also likes to observe Chaeyoung’s apartment, writing about it on her clipboard with the huge, familiar logo at the backside. It’s really endearing. 

Chaeyoung could hear the rustling of plastic, which meant that Dahyun was inside her apartment now. Dahyun was leaving miscellaneous plastic bags of snacks and beverages on the cramped low table beside Chaeyoung’s bed. She must have gone in by herself using the spare key she had somehow obtained throughout her friendship with Chaeyoung.

“Be careful of the figurines…” Chaeyoung grumbled, her voice muddled with drowsiness. “I just posed them…”

“Yes, I know.” Dahyun perfunctorily said. She stood up to check Chaeyoung’s refrigerator, and Chaeyoung’s bathroom, and then Chaeyoung’s closet, as if it were a procedure. “What have you been eating this week?” 

When Chaeyoung finally opened her eyes, she saw Dahyun bending to take the clipboard out of her backpack on the floor. At this point, Dahyun was now a familiar sight- literally, because she liked to wear similar clothes whenever she visited Chaeyoung. Today, she is in her bright orange high vis jacket again, with a print that said _ON DUTY._ Come to think of it, Chaeyoung has never really seen Dahyun without that vest… she guessed it must be Dahyun's favorite article of clothing. But then Dahyun's taste, or lack thereof, is understandable, given that she does not devote her lifestyle to Chou Tzuyu just as Chaeyoung herself does. 

“Pasta, I don’t know,” Chaeyoung answered. 

“Okay.” Dahyun said. She had her back to Chaeyoung, and Chaeyoung saw her tick small boxes on her clipboard. Dahyun put the clipboard back in her backpack and looked around Chaeyoung’s apartment, seemingly observing Chaeyoung’s walls. 

“I haven’t seen that one before,” Dahyun nonchalantly said, pointing to a new poster of Tzuyu. It was from a collaborative advertisement in a foreign country and Chaeyoung had gone unimaginable lengths just to procure it. “is it new?” 

Chaeyoung smiled. She was happy that Dahyun had noticed, feeling like her efforts for Chou Tzuyu were not in vain. Chaeyoung rolled to her side so she could see her walls better. “Yes. I’m proud of that.” 

“Yeah. She’s hot,” Dahyun said, more to herself. Chaeyoung pretended not to hear it; in her head, Dahyun was not allowed to say that just yet. It takes skill and patience to appreciate Chou Tzuyu in all her beauty, and not just a secondary glance. 

Dahyun picked up her backpack and walked to her doorway. “Anyway, I have to go. See you again next week,” She said, without even looking at Chaeyoung. 

“See you! Thanks for the visit,” Chaeyoung said.

Dahyun didn’t reply, and the last thing Chaeyoung heard was the lock of her door from outside. Dahyun might be a little strange sometimes, but it's okay, because she's really kind. _Thank you for allowing me to meet her, Tzuyu…_

When Dahyun was gone, Chaeyoung sat up on her bed. Looking at her wide range of Tzuyu merchandise properly placed all over her room, she felt nothing. It was just going to be another day of wondering if she would ever be able to meet Chou Tzuyu. 

At this point, it feels a bit unfair that she still hadn’t met Tzuyu. She had engaged in countless mudslinging battles online over somebody slandering Tzuyu’s name; she had spent copious amounts of money on her Tzuyu-related purchases; she had even gone as far as stepping outside her apartment and taking the bus to the nearest mall just to buy a tacky BENCH shirt with Tzuyu’s face on it. Ultimately, she had altered her entire way of life, just for Chou Tzuyu. Her latest feat was creating a Tzuyu shrine on her low table, a picture frame of Chou Tzuyu standing in the middle, surrounded by six other figurines she had gotten from a limited collection. 

So if all that wasn’t enough… what else would she have to do to meet Chou Tzuyu in the flesh? For Chou Tzuyu to mutter her name just once, Chaeyoung wanted to know, desperately, what else she had to do. Because at this point, she’d do anything. _Anything._

She stared at her new Tzuyu shrine, and Chaeyoung’s eyes flashed, the same way they did when her smartphone would notify her of a new Tweet from Tzuyu. She had suddenly remembered a piece of advice Tzuyu said in a variety show… 

_“Effort won’t betray you. Hard work means everything!”_

Yes… Tzuyu was right! Nothing was going to happen if she didn't do anything about it. So Chaeyoung decides to follow that advice. She has never met Tzuyu in the flesh, but Chaeyoung decides to change that. 

Of course, Chaeyoung’s first thought was to log onto her Twitter account to express her laments, like she always does. Her entire Twitter page is an extensive, public love letter to Chou Tzuyu. But before anything, she scrolls through her timeline with a sense of resentment; she sees tweets from her so-called “friends”, some of whom were personally mentioned by Tzuyu in the past, whether it be on her V-Lives or her Instagram account. Chaeyoung just doesn't get it. What did she miss? What do they have that Chaeyoung doesn’t? _It's not fair,_ she types on her smartphone, _when will I be able to see you, Tzuyu??_ Send Tweet. 

She scrolls through her timeline a bit more. Cute puppy videos, high-resolution images of Tzuyu looking like complete perfection outside the studio, and then… a raffle tweet from Tzuyu's label? 

  
  
  


_CHOU TZUYU coming to your city! Don't miss your chance! 1 winner will be given a free ticket to TZUYU WORLD, city of your choice. RT and Like!_

_(Unfortunately, due to the current circumstances, only a fansign will be held. Please do not forget to wear a face mask.)_

  
  
  


Right, the “current circumstances”, and a “face mask”… Chaeyoung has not stepped outside to actually see what the outside world looked like now, but she did occasionally hear about an ongoing, worldwide pandemic. She also hasn't bought her own face mask because she was skeptical about the news of a highly-contagious virus. But if Tzuyu’s company, and by extension, Tzuyu, said so, then it must be real. 

An imaginary lightbulb flashed atop Chaeyoung’s head: now it makes sense that Tzuyu had been fervently telling her fans to stay safe! _Tzuyu’s compassion is incomprehensible._ Send Tweet. 

But onto more pressing matters… 

That raffle tweet, was _that_ real? Was this going to be her chance to finally meet the most ethereal, beautiful, gorgeous woman in the universe? There was, realistically, a 0.001% chance it could happen, Chaeyoung thought. She had dedicated so much to Chou Tzuyu, but she had not received a single speck of attention. 

Yet she was not discouraged in the least. 

“I’ll do anything for you, Tzuyu…” Chaeyoung whispered to herself, her thumb hovering over the tweet on her screen. She took her chances and retweeted it. While Chaeyoung kept in mind that all her hard work must bear some fruit someday because Tzuyu said so, she still spent the entire day bemoaning her luck, among other things, until the sun had set and she had once again slipped into her night routine of streaming Tzuyu’s latest album to fall asleep. 

  
  
  
  
  


Soon after Chaeyoung's Tzuyu-induced epiphany regarding diligence, days turned into weeks, and weeks turned into months. The warm air that blew in her window every night was now replaced by a cool atmosphere from the rain, and she no longer needed to hyperfocus on Tzuyu’s voice to fall asleep. 

Chaeyoung had also spent each day in a religious routine of creating Twitter accounts to retweet Tzuyu’s raffle tweet, determined to finally meet Chou Tzuyu in the flesh, to hear her voice in person, and to touch her warm skin (and further roam, if Tzuyu permitted…).

Today was no different, and as soon as Chaeyoung woke up, she went straight to creating new email addresses and registering as many Twitter accounts as possible. To make things more organized, she had created accounts with similar surnames, so as to show her determination with a simple incrementation: GucciTzuyu1, GucciTzuyu2… today, she was on GucciTzuyu113. She was not going to stop anytime soon, because JYP Ent. was releasing the results in half an hour.

During the past few months, Chaeyoung had turned off all the notifications for her phone except for tweets from Tzuyu’s label. Her only connection to the outside world was now a weekly visit from her friend Dahyun. It wasn’t much of a change, if Chaeyoung were to be honest, but she had to eliminate all distractions; she was _this_ determined to meet Tzuyu. 

She reached for her laptop on the other side of her bed. The nervous pit of anxiety in her chest deepened, and all she heard was the sound of her own heartbeat– not even the sound of her laptop’s whirring hardware, or the incoherent orchestra outside her apartment: the incessant barking of stray dogs, the occasional road noise of exhaust motors. Somehow, thinking of Tzuyu had warped her into another dimension, and nothing mattered anymore. 

With her shaky fingers hovering over the touchpad, she refreshed her Direct Messages every second. Wasn’t it foolish of her, to anticipate so much? To think she actually had a chance? Yes, it might have been foolish. And stupid, even. Still, Chaeyoung knew, deep inside, that she was Tzuyu’s; there was no proof for it, given the zero direct interactions the two had. But Chaeyoung just knew it: that she was the 100% perfect girl for Tzuyu, and Tzuyu was the 100% perfect girl for everybody– of course she was; it would be selfish to try to keep Tzuyu for herself– still, Chaeyoung just knew, deep inside, that Tzuyu was also hers. 

Then, suddenly, a notification appeared on GucciTzuyu113’s Direct Messages. Never had Chaeyoung feel so intimidated by a tiny blue logo on a laptop screen as she was now. Apparently she had a notification, a _single_ notification. It couldn’t be… could it? 

Chaeyoung was frantic, and the previous pit of anxiety in her chest was now swallowing her whole. She froze. Everything was spinning. But she must persist, because this was the moment of truth; she took a deep breath and clicked on her messages.

  
  


_Congratulations! You have won a ticket to TZUYU WORLD! Please reply with your choice of destination and your e-mail. We will get back to you shortly afterwards._

  
  


“What!?” Chaeyoung audibly gasped, “M-me!?”

_No way!?_

_That’s me!_

_This can’t be real!_

  
  


Chaeyoung stared at the screen, unmoving. She was dumbfounded. She really _was_ going to meet Chou Tzuyu in the flesh! All her efforts had definitely paid off; Tzuyu was right! She wanted to jump out of bed, yell at anyone, every single passerby that she was going to meet the love of her life, the _200%_ perfect girl for her! But she remained still. There was nobody to scream to, and her body had somehow turned into a mush of useless muscle. A million thoughts swirled in her head. She read the message again and again until it lost coherence from repetition, and they had only looked like individual words on her laptop screen. Chaeyoung slapped her own cheek and pinched her arms. It hurt. This wasn’t a dream! 

Everything was real and perfect, and for the first time in her life, Chaeyoung had felt accomplished, as if all the steps she had taken in her devotion to Chou Tzuyu had accumulated to this very moment. Her chest filled with excitement for the days to come; if she was this happy now, how happy would she be during that moment? When the much awaited 2 minutes would finally come close, and then pass? And then afterwards she would feel a sense of enlightenment, as if she had transcended human consciousness and was now on a supernatural plane of living. 

She may not have lived as a philanthropist, but she did live her life as a dedicated fan of Chou Tzuyu. Chaeyoung fell asleep with a smile on her face that night, laptop screen still unfolded on her chest, its light reflecting on her face. Nothing else mattered anymore.

Predictably, the days passed in a frantic blur. Chaeyoung could not think about anything, only awaiting the two minutes of heaven she would have soon. She didn’t tell anybody about her fansign with Tzuyu, not even her comrades, not even Dahyun; she somehow felt that this was her and Tzuyu’s little secret, and that the confidentiality made it more precious, more special. She could not stop thinking about the two minutes she would have with Tzuyu soon. What she would say; what she’d do… how she would tell Tzuyu that she’d sacrifice anything for her, and Tzuyu delightfully accepting that, making Chaeyoung hers...

Alas, that was a mere delusion. Tzuyu would never do that, especially not to Chaeyoung; Chaeyoung was not special. Tzuyu would probably forget her after those 2 minutes. Besides, Chaeyoung knew Tzuyu was exhausted, traveling across the country for the fansign; braving the ongoing pandemic just to satiate her army. Still, she pushes herself to smile in kindness for her fans. Chaeyoung sighed, _Tzuyu is so kindhearted…_  
  
  
  


The day of the fansign finally came, and Chaeyoung was so ecstatic that she jumped out of bed the moment she woke up. With trembling hands, she placed her gift in a tiny cardboard box and wrapped it with indigo paper: Tzuyu’s favorite color. It was a handy pocket mirror with jewels adorned around the perimeter. The gems were made out of real gold, and Chaeyoung had spent her last paycheck to have them personally crafted by a renowned jeweler.

Shuffling to the corner of her room, she chose a random copy from her physical stack of Tzuyu’s albums on the floor. Afterwards, Chaeyoung placed a note behind the pocket mirror, although she didn’t expect Tzuyu to actually see it, let alone read it: _“Whenever you’re sad, just remember that you’re Chou Tzuyu: the most beautiful flower of all. I love you…”_ Still, it felt nice to hope. Now, she was ready.

That sense of hope had sent Chaeyoung flying out of her apartment, giving her the courage to do something she never would have done before: take public transportation without fretting. The train was empty, understandably so, given the fear caused by the worldwide pandemic. Tzuyu’s face appeared on almost every coach in the train: her commercial film with Estee Lauder played every three minutes or so on the monitor overhead, lulling Chaeyoung with a sense of security; it was as if everything was perfect, and she was destined to meet the love of her life, the only thing she ever wanted. Watching Tzuyu delicately apply lipstick over her lips, Chaeyoung was hypnotized; she thought about what those lips would feel like, or even better, what they’d look like up close, especially when it would finally be her turn at the fansign later.

The station’s announcement snapped her out of her hypnosis. She ran outside the train as soon as the doors opened, and down the stairs in the station, then booked a Grab once she had stepped outside. The driver had incessantly attempted to strike small conversation with her about the pandemic; yes, the pandemic again: virus this, virus that. Chaeyoung didn’t really care. If she was going to die, she was going to die in triumph, because she would soon be meeting _The_ Chou Tzuyu, and that was all that mattered. 

The sound of his voice had somehow turned to white noise as she alternated between looking at the remaining distance on Google Maps and the view outside the car window. Before she knew it, she was finally at the stadium. She knew the particulars of fansigns, having watched a thousand fancams before coming here. The participants would sit inside, facing the stage that held Tzuyu in the stadium. And Tzuyu would smile at them the entire time, camera shutters clicking at the same speed as Chaeyoung did flinging herself all the way here. Chaeyoung didn’t want to do anything but stare at Tzuyu the entire time- in the flesh, and in all her beauty. _Burn me up, Tzuyu, kill me,_ Chaeyoung thought, _do whatever you want. I’d do whatever you want. I love you so much._

“Due to safety reasons,” A security guard announced as they emerged from the stadium’s entrance, “nobody is allowed in the stadium unless it’s their turn.”

Chaeyoung swore she felt her jaw drop on the floor. What? Not inside? So no fancams, or pictures of this day? And that Tzuyu was all alone in the huge auditorium? Poor girl... Chaeyoung lamented for Tzuyu, and for herself. The two minutes were not an exaggeration; that was really all Chaeyoung would have. More importantly, Tzuyu must have been so lonely there, with nobody to talk to, and nothing to do but please her fans as they came and went. That sounded miserable. Chaeyoung was determined to make this as smooth as it could be for the love of her life.

Sitting on her designated chair outside the stadium, she stared at her shoes the entire time, not in fear, but in resentment; everybody was loud. They were all two seats apart but the noise terrorized Chaeyoung’s ears, even more so than when she was alone in her apartment with the windows open. It was irritating to discover here, out of all places, that the audible sound of Tzuyu’s army was unbearable. Yes, Chaeyoung should have been grateful for them; that they all supported Tzuyu... but did they love Tzuyu as much as Chaeyoung did? 

Chaeyoung laughed to herself at the notion of them thinking they were worthy of Chou Tzuyu’s two minutes. If they wanted to prove themselves, they should have done what Chaeyoung did: create a hundred Twitter accounts and write love letters to Tzuyu everyday. Chaeyoung was the only one in this line that won the right to meet Tzuyu fair and square. 

“Number forty-three!” The security guard suddenly yelled, but he was met with silence. He retaliated with an even louder yell, as if he was trying to make one of those army speeches that Chaeyoung would practice by herself in her room, when she pretended that Tzuyu was an emperor and she was her right-hand general, _“Number! Forty! Three!”_

The frustrated violence that lined his voice was enough to make Chaeyoung thrash her limbs in surprise. Realization struck her and she shot up from her seat, like the soldier she was. She shrieked, “T-that’s my number!”

“Okay. It’s your turn. Get inside. Tzuyu doesn’t have all day.”

Chaeyoung ignored him, running past the intimidating entrance. Her adrenaline warped her sense of perception and the double doors looked grander, as if it was rightfully inviting Chaeyoung to plunge herself in it. Like there was no looking back, and nothing would ever be the same after the two minutes with Tzuyu she was going to taste soon. She felt a rush of dopamine shoot up her veins. Meeting Tzuyu was nothing like any drug she’s experimented with in her university days, before she dropped out to completely dedicate her life to Tzuyu. Now she didn’t need any artificial drug. All she needed was Tzuyu. Who needs substance-induced hallucinations of beautiful women when you have the legal, real thing? 

To say that the stadium was grand, however, was an understatement. It was comparable to the Aphrodisias stadium in Turkey, or to the Colosseum in Rome. An architectural wonder, but Chaeyoung knew that it was a mere side-effect of Tzuyu’s presence inside the giant auditorium. 

“What are you waiting for?” The security guard from behind yelled. “Get in!”

Chaeyoung snapped out of her awe, “Y-yes! I’m so sorry!” 

She mustered the mental energy she was saving up all for this moment. She had to act _normal_ , the way she did when she was still a university student, the way she did before she had discovered the glamour of being a part of Tzuyu’s army. She couldn’t possibly scare Tzuyu away; that was the worst thing she could do to herself and to the love of her life. 

With a deep breath, Chaeyoung climbed up the stairs connecting to the stage, and calmly walked to the clothed table on the center stage. Tzuyu was seated there, with her long, brown hair tucked behind her endearingly sharp ears. She was sitting there as if she was waiting for this moment to come, too, like Chaeyoung was her wife and she was anticipating the news of tonight’s dinner. Chaeyoung timidly sat down on the wooden chair in front of the table. 

“Hello, Tzuyu.” Chaeyoung politely greeted. She gently placed her copy of Tzuyu’s album on the table for her to sign. “You look great today, as always. Did you dye your hair?” She remembers it being a slightly darker shade of brown just yesterday. 

Tzuyu stopped in the middle of her signature on Chaeyoung’s album. A small smile appeared on her face. “O-oh. Yes I did. Do you think it suits me?”

“Of course it does. I like it.” Chaeyoung replied. Tzuyu had continued to flip through her album, leaving miscellaneous doodles here and there with her permanent marker. They were probably smudged by now, with the way Tzuyu was turning the pages so fast, but it didn’t matter. Chaeyoung swore to treasure this particular album copy for the rest of her life. 

“Thank you.” Tzuyu said. She had a small, pleased look on her face. “What’s your name?”

Chaeyoung gulped. She replied obediently, “Chaeyoung. Son Chaeyoung.”

“Okay, Chaeyoung… this is how you spell it, right?” Tzuyu softly asked, slightly moving so that Chaeyoung could see the page she was writing on. 

Chaeyoung peeked at the album in a useless gesture. “Yes.” 

Even if Tzuyu had spelled her name wrong, had butchered her name to the point of incoherence, she would have still said yes. Never mind everything else, because hearing Tzuyu say her name like that… it did things to her. Her stomach twisted in a painful yet pleasurable way, and she swung her legs underneath the seat, where Tzuyu wouldn’t see. That would have been embarrassingly juvenile. She kept her torso steady. 

As she silently watched Tzuyu doodle here and there on the vinyl paper, Chaeyoung noticed something. She looked at Tzuyu in observation and noticed that her under eyes were unmistakably dark and deep, albeit concealed under thick makeup. There was a certain frail, mechanical way she handled Chaeyoung’s album too, so delicate that Chaeyoung almost pitied her. Chaeyoung wanted to warmly clasp Tzuyu’s overworked hands with her own, and tell her, reassuringly, _no need to be so careful, Tzuyu. You’re doing great. It’s perfect. You're so perfect._ But she did not. 

Then it hit Chaeyoung, right there, that the reason why Tzuyu looked different was because today, in front of Chaeyoung, she was human. She was not the idol behind her phone screen, or one of the countless posters on her wall. She was Chou Tzuyu, human, and very much tired. The realization had seeped into Chaeyoung with guilt, to finally understand that she, too, was one of the reasons behind Tzuyu’s weariness. 

Hence, this was the least she could do, as her possibly last interaction with Chou Tzuyu. She slid the wrapped gift on top of the table. “Here, by the way,” Chaeyoung softly said, as if she was trying to level herself with Tzuyu’s gentleness. She had to be cautious. “I got this for you. And I remembered you liked indigo.”

Tzuyu laughed. “Thank you again, Chaeyoung.” It was the first time Chaeyoung heard her laugh like that. It was refreshing, especially knowing that she was able to incite delight from Tzuyu, no matter how insignificant. “I only mentioned that once. I’m surprised you remember that,”

“Of course. I remember everything about you.” Chaeyoung automatically said. It was only when Tzuyu laughed, again, that she realized what she had just admitted. _Fuck, Chaeyoung! You’re so stupid sometimes!_

“What?”

“Nevermind,” Chaeyoung shyly said, looking elsewhere. When she finally looked at Tzuyu again, there was a smile on her face. 

“No need to be shy,” Tzuyu giggled. She reluctantly handed Chaeyoung her album back. “And thank you so much for this, Chaeyoung. I had a lot of fun. Hopefully we meet again soon.”

Chaeyoung felt the blush creep up on her cheeks. She didn’t fuss too much with makeup this morning because she was in a rush to the stadium, so she was sure Tzuyu could see pink on her face. It was embarrassing to think about how transparent she was in front of Tzuyu, but it was expected; this was the woman she was willing to risk everything for, after all. 

“Thank you. I hope so too,” Chaeyoung replied. She stood up, bowed, and took an exit from the stadium. There was no looking back now. 

Everything afterwards had seemed like a dream. The way her fingers grazed against Tzuyu’s skin when she handed her the gift, the way Chaeyoung had purposely over-reached when Tzuyu was returning her album, so that her fingers would touch Tzuyu’s once again… it was all too good to be true. She thought about it the entire time, her entire body functioning on autopilot. She was too overwhelmed that she could not trust herself to take the train again, lest she faint there from over-satisfaction from today’s events. She booked a Grab from the stadium to bring her back to her apartment building, not minding the fact that it was 30 kilometers away and the prices had doubled, given the time in the late afternoon. Chaeyoung simply didn’t care. 

When her driver finally arrived, Chaeyoung thought he looked like a brute. His jaw was characteristically sharp and square, forming a near 90 degree angle. His lips were almost double the size of Tzuyu’s, and his hands were, so to speak, disgusting: huge and calloused on the steering wheel, as if he had gone to war and back simply to fetch Chaeyoung from this stadium. 

Chaeyoung sighed as she entered the car. Everything simply grew stale after seeing Tzuyu, and nothing would ever be the same again. She could hear the laugh of another woman and it would only disappoint her, because it would not sound like Tzuyu’s. She could be touched in places she normally wouldn’t be, but it would not incite any arousal in her, because, simply, that woman was not Tzuyu. 

The car started to move and buildings started to appear in view. Chaeyoung was not impressed whatsoever. These tall structures were useless to her, because she knew that Tzuyu had never been in them. That was all Chaeyoung thought about these days, anyway: Tzuyu. She had mentioned the thought to Dahyun a few weeks ago, prior to the fansign, but Dahyun reassured her it was nothing to worry about. And if Dahyun said it was okay, then it should be… right? 

Chaeyoung needed to calm down. Being away from Tzuyu felt like a heroin withdrawal. Her breathing was ragged. She checked her phone: 30 minutes away from her apartment. _It’s okay, Chaeyoung,_ she whispered to herself, _Tzuyu loves you. You’ll be okay._

She frantically went through her bag and got her album out- her signed album that Tzuyu had marked: a divine gift from the goddess herself. Yes, this was what she needed to calm down. She braced herself before opening the album. She actually didn’t know what Tzuyu wrote on there, whether she had butchered her name or not, or if she even drew anything; Chaeyoung was busy looking at her the entire time. 

She opened her album and tiny piece paper fell from the confines of its vinyl pages. Chaeyoung bent down to the cargo mat to pick it up. 

_Meet me at the back alley of the ONCE hotel. Be there thirty minutes before midnight._

Chaeyoung’s hands started to shake as she read the note again and again. Undoubtedly, this was Tzuyu’s handwriting… she must have slipped it within the pages while Chaeyoung was too preoccupied staring at her. Was this a threat? She didn’t care if this was a threat. If it came from Tzuyu, Chaeyoung would do anything with no question. 


	2. 2/2

Chaeyoung waited at the designated location. Fidgeting, she fished for the ripped piece of paper in her pocket, and gazed over Tzuyu’s frenzied note. The paper, reflecting murky orange and yellow from nearby streetlights, revealed the slopes and curls of effortless cursive evident of the perfect penmanship only Tzuyu could wield. She held the paper near her nose and took a deep inhale. It didn’t smell like anything. Still, this must be the mark of a real goddess.

Chaeyoung had been waiting for almost half an hour now. But that was okay. She didn’t feel any resentment, or impatience; those feelings were not meant for Tzuyu. Those were meant for herself; she should have known that she was not worthy of Tzuyu’s sharp attendance! And even if Tzuyu was not here, Chaeyoung felt that she wasn’t alone, because she just knew Tzuyu was thinking of her.

The street, too, offered relative solitude; a concealed alley tucked between the car parks of opposing apartment complexes. A dense bundle of cables slalomed across the sky, around trees and obscured street signs. A break in the clouds filtered moonlight through interstices of tangled wire, patterning luminous spots across the tarmac. Chaeyoung glanced at her Casio watch, following each second as it inched towards midnight. How thoughtful of Tzuyu to make Chaeyoung wait in such a safe place... she should be here soon.

Chaeyoung wondered what would then happen once Tzuyu arrived. What personal vehicle did she even own? Despite her glamorous net worth – a ludicrous number edging closer to its seventh zero – an impassioned plea made by tear-stained Tzuyu during the emotional climax of ‘Third World in a Day’ hinted at a burning desire to redistribute her wealth. Chaeyoung would not be surprised if she opted for a working-man’s Honda Civic, or even abandoned the idea of a fuel engine and rode horses in her bid to reduce pollution.

Suddenly, Chaeyoung’s watch beeped, marking 12 AM.

A deep hum from a car engine drew closer, rumbling at a familiar tone. She could not quite see the vehicle itself, blinded from its bright headlights seemingly directed right at her. She was taken aback, struck with memories of an old family car that shuttled her to and from school. The car approached; light glinted off polished green metal that flourished along its length to uncover a 2014 Toyota Vios with a local license plate. Sat at the driver’s seat was a woman, donning a pinstriped conductor hat and visor shades. Chaeyoung was at a loss, with the car still partially engulfed in darkness she assumed it was a Grab ordered by a resident, the unmistakable commercial green strengthening her belief.

The woman stalled the engine, gracefully stepping out of the vehicle to stand at a towering height. Though her face was concealed, her identity was laid bare. Her upright, rigid posture granted her the illusion of being impossibly tall; her form fitted suit showcased a pinstripe motif that fell in seamless vertical lines, evoking the awe one feels when watching a stream of water flow through untouched landscape. There was no denying that this was Tzuyu. In comparison to Chaeyoung’s short stature, Tzuyu’s imposing aura felt suffocating, almost willing the former to fall to her knees in submission.

“Hello, Chaeyoung.” Tzuyu’s voice was soft and scarcely audible, yet Chaeyoung didn’t have trouble hearing her words, as if the wind played messenger in delivering her voice straight into her ears.

As expected, the world appeared malleable to Tzuyu’s influence, distorting to fulfil her needs. If the earth was the planetary body revolving the sun, the elements contained within revolve around Tzuyu.

“Greetings...” Chaeyoung softly replied, as if to establish her submission to Tzuyu. “How should I address you?”

In her surreptitious practise, Chaeyoung would refer to Tzuyu as no less than royalty – terms like ‘queen’, ‘her majesty’ and ‘our goddess’ were scattered throughout her Twitter account. However, an ensuing beat of silence confirmed that she would not be dignified with response. _Of course_ , Chaeyoung reasoned, _she is not obliged to talk to anyone lower than her!_

“Get in the car.” Tzuyu commanded, motioning to the back seat and summoning Chaeyoung with a curled index finger.

An inexplicable magnetism drew Chaeyoung closer, as she automatically stood up straight and ambled forth as if lost in a drunken haze. The scent of Tzuyu’s perfume grew stronger, forming an illusory hook in Chaeyoung’s nose that involuntarily dragged her until she stood parallel to the car door. Tzuyu had removed her shades somewhere in Chaeyoung’s reverie, her stare now fixed to the door handle.

“Could you open the door?” Tzuyu asked, this time without conviction. “It’s a bit embarrassing, but I don’t know how to open a door from the outside. My staff have always done this for me.”

Chaeyoung opened the door in a haste swing, shaking. “It’s okay! I know you have been in the spotlight since toddlerhood! You will not have needed to perform mundane tasks like this.”

“Oh? I’m glad you understand.” Tzuyu seemed humoured, a grin played at her lips. “Now hurry inside. Someone might spot us.”

Chaeyoung settled into the furthest end of the backseat, at this vantage point she will be able to see Tzuyu from the rear mirror. Tzuyu slid in through the same door, perching on the adjacent seat. Unexpected, Chaeyoung is filled with guilt. Stupid! she had opened the back door, but not the front! How would Tzuyu be able to drive from the backseat? Now Tzuyu would have to clamber over into the front of this built-for-purpose-not-comfort using her tall frame... how could she be so careless?

“The driver will be here in four minutes,” Tzuyu stated.

“A driver?”

Tzuyu wasn’t going to drive? Though, it did soothe Chaeyoung's momentary self-loathing.

“Yes, a driver. I called a driver to meet us here after picking you up. I wouldn’t be able to acquaint with you if I had to focus on driving, after all. You really intrigued me during the fan sign earlier and the oppressive time limit didn’t allow for good conversation.”

“‘To acquaint with me’?”

“Chaeyoung, are you just going to repeat everything I say? I didn’t expect you to ask all these questions. You’re usually so self-assured. Always replying to my SNS posts. Making a hundred Twitter accounts just for me.”

“Wait… what?” Chaeyoung stared at Tzuyu incredulously, her jaw dropping. There was no time to be embarrassed. Tzuyu noticed her all this time? With Herculean strength, she forced the words out of her mouth; it would be selfish to deprive Tzuyu of an explanation behind her shock. “I thought... you didn’t notice me. You would reply to all my friends, and.... I was getting jealous and desperate,”

Chaeyoung paused from her voice cracking; she was on the verge of tears. But it would be embarrassingly pitiful to cry right here, inside Tzuyu’s middle-class car. And even if she did, she would have to ensure her tears would not spill on the leather seats; it would have been extremely rude to leave a mark on any of Tzuyu’s possessions. But Chaeyoung let herself cry anyway.

For a few moments, the car is quiet, except for the small crying sounds from Chaeyoung’s thorax. The sound is even more emphasized, insulated in the tiny space the car allows. Finally, Chaeyoung breathed, “All I do is live for you… ugh, alas, don’t take this as ungratefulness, beholding your beauty within mere centimeters of my reach is extremely humbling, like, in fact—”

Chaeyoung’s speech is cut off by Tzuyu firmly planting a finger onto Chaeyoung’s lips. The aggressive placement was unflattering on Chaeyoung, her mouth still ajar. But it didn't matter, because Chaeyoung could even feel the weight of Tzuyu’s finger on her teeth, feel the surface of Tzuyu’s skin on hers. Oh, and, if she moved her tongue, she could trial a taste of Tzuyu’s skin. She’s so sweet!

A wicked smile erupted across Tzuyu’s face, her eyes growing darker. Just like that, Tzuyu’s demure persona had dissolved in front of Chaeyoung. The atmosphere rarefied. Chaeyoung thought about how attractively intimidating Tzuyu was in the flesh. Her breath laboured in excitement; Tzuyu doesn’t seem like she plays nice.  
  
“Say that again.” Tzuyu said.

“What?”

Tzuyu sat closer and moved her face until it was centimeters away from Chaeyoung’s. “That you live for me.”

Chaeyoung could feel Tzuyu’s breath on her face. “Okay.” Chaeyoung gulped. “I live for you,” She forced words between haggard breaths.

Tzuyu retracted her finger. “Good. Prove it. Prove how committed you are to me.”

Chaeyoung froze. Though flustered, Chaeyoung’s mind raced with methods to show her devotion, her uneasiness aggravated by how close Tzuyu was to her face. Chaeyoung’s array of expensive memorabilia, covered in a fine layer of dust in her tiny apartment, diminished in value when facing Tzuyu’s fierce demand. She could not retrieve even her most prized possession, a lock of Tzuyu’s hair she won via an eBay auction that she kept hidden in a safe. In fact, she had spent her entire college fund to outbid a persistent opponent.

And then, _eureka_.

Chaeyoung retrieved her phone, rushing to open her camera roll. Tzuyu presented a quizzical glare, which was quickly allayed as Chaeyoung scrolled through 23,000 images of precious material. She must have procured every picture Tzuyu posted to Instagram since debut, alongside exclusive fan content and grainy close-up shots from concerts. Tzuyu would stop Chaeyoung’s photo onslaught at sporadic intervals, pausing at selfies and smiling fondly at her own visage.

“Oh, Chaeyoung,” Tzuyu cooed, “you’re such a good girl...”

“Everything I do is for you.”

Chaeyoung felt fingertips graze the nape of her neck, a silent traversal over sensitive skin usually concealed by her hair. Her head cupped in Tzuyu’s palm, craning upwards to meet Tzuyu’s face, as if to whisper a deep secret, the gravity of the situation pulling her closer. An inevitable collision of souls masqueraded itself as a time skip. It must have been a time skip. Tzuyu’s lips were over Chaeyoung in a frenzied kiss, and Tzuyu was impassioned by… something; Chaeyoung could not tell. Nevertheless, the taste of Tzuyu’s lips, Tzuyu’s tongue and Tzuyu’s teeth was the equivalent of having serotonin injected into her brain and horny goat weed into her vagina.

Interrupted by a knock, much to her chagrin, Chaeyoung peered out of the window to discover another woman, who was hunched over, face eclipsing the entire window. A common pervert? She was smiling, teeth and gums bared as if she were at a dentist appointment.

“Why did you stop?” Tzuyu asked.

“There’s someone outside.”

Tzuyu made a cursory glance.

“That’s the driver; she’s nobody. I’m _somebody._ Look at me.” She cupped Chaeyoung’s cheeks between her palms, her wrists tensed. “You can’t move. You can only look at me.”

There was an urgency in Tzuyu’s voice. Her eyes echoed the frailty from her fansign. In her plea, Tzuyu seemed to unveil an identity built upon public attention, one that threatened to vanish the moment Chaeyoung looked away. Chaeyoung matched her intensity, sporting furrowed brows and an air of determination, tacit confirmation that Tzuyu could trust her presence, reaffirm her status, and provide necessary validation. After all, no other mortal held the deified position Tzuyu assumed in Chaeyoung’s life. You can trust me, Tzuyu, Chaeyoung’s gaze assured, I will not let you down.

The pervert chauffeur entered. Chaeyoung heard her rattling from her stationary position. Tzuyu was squinting at her as she kept Chaeyoung in place, adjusting her head in increments before stalling with a satisfied hum.

“I can see the world in your eyes.” Tzuyu said, wistfully.

At Tzuyu’s proximity, Chaeyoung wondered what she could see. An object close to the visual field would be blurred, a metaphorical interpretation of what it used to be.

“Did you know,” Tzuyu began, “if you look closely enough into someone’s eyes you can see your own reflection?”

Oh. So that’s what she could see: herself. Chaeyoung was merely there, Tzuyu did not seem to acknowledge her as sentient, or capable of dissent; however, being treated like an object by her idol sent shockwaves to her pussy. Chaeyoung was getting turned on by Tzuyu’s disregard of her existence.

If she were going to submit, she would submit everything. For the remainder of this tryst, Chaeyoung will give her mind, her body and her free will to become Tzuyu’s disciple.

“You are right, my queen, there is nothing more beautiful than you.”

“Nayeon?” Tzuyu addressed the driver, “Floor it.”

The ride to Tzuyu’s mansion was turbulent. Frantic making out interspersed with Tzuyu chastising the driver, Nayeon, whose voyeur habit had almost swerved them into an oncoming truck. For the final five minutes, Chaeyoung was blindfolded – Tzuyu had recited a clause from her contract that deemed to respect the idol’s privacy, demanding any offense to be punishable by law.

The thrum of steel gates signified the end of Chaeyoung’s blindness. The fabric was ripped away, her view replaced by a verdant tropic. Neat shrubbery aligned cobblestone paths, marble stairs ascended to various doors and balconies, and manicured decorative elements trained the eye to capture the breadth of Tzuyu’s impressive estate. Its focal point was an oppressive statue, a huge marble bust of Tzuyu, surrounded by winged incarnations of Tzuyu in various life stages. The artist had interpreted Tzuyu as the matriarch of her own legacy – to which Chaeyoung agreed. As rumor would tell, the statue is proposed to replace Michelangelo’s David once the idol consents in her will.

“This is so impressive,” Chaeyoung remarked, “as expected from a goddess...”

Chaeyoung’s open-mouthed wonder is halted by a smack to her cheek. The pain encroached like bee sting, a swift punishment with an aching payoff.

“Don’t forget who is most impressive.”

“I’m sorry. You are the most impressive part of this stately property.”

“You’re a smart girl.” Tzuyu cooed into Cheyoung’s ear, stroking her chin affectionately. She unleashed a barrage of kisses to Chaeyoung’s smacked cheek, saccharine oohs and aahs punctuating the spaces between.

The interior of Tzuyu’s manor boasted the same level of opulence; one curious addition were ceiling-height mirrors that flanked the walls in the reception hall. Chaeyoung trailed behind Tzuyu, watching her reflection multiply as if she were staring through a kaleidoscope, or witnessing a version of mitosis where an uneasy number of enantiomorphs divided in front of her. In a way, Tzuyu’s abode paralleled Chaeyoung’s apartment: every dimension held some bearing of the idol’s visage, even the atmosphere seemed to serve her will.

Tzuyu led Chaeyoung to a study room, air heavy with the scent of mahogany. A quintessential study, echoing the colonial British-era, despite their geographical location having avoided the iron-fist grip of Queen Victoria and her successors. A set of brown leather couches looked to a lavish fireplace: an astute eye would realise that wooden engravings of Tzuyu adorned its perimeter, her veneered eyes breathing an eternal flame, crackling endlessly underneath a tyrannical gaze. Above the mantle, golden-framed, hung a large portrait – Tzuyu in royal garment, a medieval ruffle around her neck, holding her tiny chihuahua, Gucci, featuring a glassy stare pointed in no particular direction. It fascinated Chaeyoung who, outside of Tzuyu, possessed a passion for fine art.

“Do you like that piece?” Tzuyu began, noticing Chaeyoung’s interest. “It was commissioned through Da Vinci.”

“Hasn’t he been dead for centuries?”

“Nothing is impossible, Chaeyoung.”

Indeed, Tzuyu’s wisdom penetrated Chaeyoung’s heart, stirring an overwhelming passion for the goddess who stood meters before her. Falling to her knees was instinctive, settling prostrate at Tzuyu’s feet, for this is the limit to how small she could make herself in front of Her Almighty.

“You are so smart,” Chaeyoung said, voice muffled by the carpet.

Tzuyu nestled on the couch, legs wavering as she held them half a meter above Chaeyoung’s body.

“Footstool!” Tzuyu commanded.

Scrambling upward, Chaeyoung rose to meet Tzuyu’s calves resting in a counter direction to her spine. Though uncomfortable – her arms were bent, straining under gravity, forced into a half-plank position – her elation to be serving the Tzuyu triumphed the rousing pain in her elbows.

“Listen, Chaeyoung, what I wish to do tonight lay solely on the fact that you live for me.” Tzuyu crossed her legs, feeling a squirm from below. “Blind worship is what you have performed thus far, like I would expect from my sub— I mean… loving fan. From this hour onward, you will worship me, in all my entirety. I have a series of questions: please me with your answers and you will be rewarded. Do you understand?”

“Yes,” Chaeyoung exhaled.

“Great! Now get off the floor, you aren’t a household pet.”

Tzuyu patted the seat next to her, her free hand toying with a suit button. Chaeyoung jumped next to her obediently. She wasn't a household pet, but for Tzuyu, she will act like it.

“First question.” Tzuyu’s arm was wrapped around Chaeyoung’s shoulder. “What do you think of me?”

“Definitely the pinnacle of God’s creation. I wholeheartedly believe that you are the reason the watchmaker analogy is true. Your physical form; it’s the product of intelligent design!”

Chaeyoung’s words flowed easily. Eloquent, given her own stage to espouse all the worth of existence, with her muse as the audience. Unlike a fan’s tendency to stutter and fall silent when meeting their idol, Chaeyoung thrived; her midnight rambling on Twitlonger, as she addressed the Tzuyu she only saw behind her eyelids, trained her for this moment. Chaeyoung’s dream had come true.

Tzuyu’s smile indicated satisfaction. She held Chaeyoung’s wrist, pulling it to reach her right breast.

“You may touch.” Chaeyoung started with an experimental squeeze, amazed at its tenderness, her fingers meeting through tissue as they sunk into memory foam.

“Wow,” Chaeyoung exclaimed, “it is so… soft. Like a marshmallow.”

All the while, Tzuyu’s grip on her wrist reasserted who had control in this situation. She placed Chaeyoung’s hand on her thigh, planting a kiss on her forehead; surprisingly affectionate.

“Don’t get too hasty,” Tzuyu warned, “I haven’t finished my questions.”

“Indeed, I spoke out of line.”

“Oh, Chaeyoung. My sweet Chaeyoung. If you were truly a good girl, the only words out of your lips would make direct reference to me!” Tzuyu said, like a mafioso belittling her underlings into submission, lips curled into a predatory smile.

Chaeyoung nodded, motioning a proverbial zip across her mouth to prove her silence.

“Second question: what do you think of my body?”

“Ah! I could wax lyrical about your body. Like a mountain range, your body is a vast, unexplored realm of beauty. I am well versed in the intricate details of your face. Your body, though? I have never gazed in an inappropriate manner; fearful my stare would sully your beauty. However, I have dreamt of you, naked, standing chaste in a fantastic rendition of The Birth of Venus.”

Tzuyu’s smirk remained stable, her free hand shifted from her button to edging the lapel of her suit off her shoulder.

“Perfect. Here is the final question: do you want to see my body?”

Chaeyoung may have painted the perfect picture of a kissless, handholdless virgin. After all, her only human contact appeared in the form of Dahyun; however, that was not always the case. Prior to her rebirth as Tzuyu’s disciple, Chaeyoung would be inundated with attention from the girls in her Pride Club at university, vying for her attention like a flock of pigeons gnawing at a stale french fry. Chaeyoung, despite her gauche aura and sleepless eyes, was genuinely attractive. It’s just that… it has been so long since she’s had sex. At this point, she believed her virginity wasn’t taken; that it thawed with each girl and renewed with the passing of the seasons.

“Yes I do!” Chaeyoung said, tugging at her collar. “Please forgive me, though, as I haven’t seen a naked woman in so long…”

“Chaeyoung. I am not just any woman. I am Tzuyu. _The Tzuyu_.”

In a theatrical flourish, Tzuyu undressed. Her suit, blouse and underwear falling from her figure in uniform fashion.

Chaeyoung did not know what was more impressive: Tzuyu’s body or Tzuyu’s theatrics. Every orifice emanated stardom, a predisposition for public adoration. However, there was one orifice on Chaeyoung that leaked, pooling a mess between her legs, and quickly drew her to the realisation that Tzuyu’s body may take priority in Chaeyoung’s conundrum. Shapely thighs, a wonderful curve of hip cinched into a slim waist. And her breasts, goodness, perky mounds that seemed to sit against gravity. Tzuyu was perfect!

“My final question, Chaeyoungie: do you want to be mine?”

“Yes, yes, yes, oh God, _yes!_ ” Chaeyoung stammered, “I’m ready! I’m ready! I was born ready and I will die ready!”

When Chaeyoung reached over the hems of her graphic shirt, however, Tzuyu slapped her hands aside.

“No. Leave it on.”

Chaeyoung blushed. Of course Tzuyu didn’t want to see her. “Okay.”

“Good. The lesbian femcel look on you really does things for me.” She said, deviously smiling. “Now, calm down, my little one. Tonight’s journey has only begun.”

The time between Tzuyu’s proposition to Chaeyoung, splayed half naked with only a t-shirt on, awaiting Tzuyu on her bed seemed to elapse in seconds. It was filled with the right teasing, poking, prodding and lubing to prepare for what Tzuyu termed as a big surprise. Mere anticipation fuelled Chaeyoung’s excitement, her entire body sensitive to the slightest changes in environment — the nearby desk fan swivelled back and forth, her nipples hardening and softening to its rhythm. Call her touch starved or impatient but if anyone were in her position with their idol, they too would climax from low-level stimulation.

Chaeyoung lay on her back and stared back at herself (courtesy of Tzuyu’s ceiling mirror). A frilled whip laid beside her; pleasantly sinister. She envisioned her death, her reflection floating before her like an apparition ascending to heaven; she wondered if she had died already, her ascetic worship granting her access to God’s bedchamber. She wondered: _why me?_ But conjecture and speculation cheapened the moment. _I must feel, not think._ Chaeyoung repeated this mantra, closing her eyes, waiting for the storm afoot.

Tzuyu arrived, still undressed, with a large plastic mass dangling between her legs. She sat with her back to Chaeyoung at the edge of the mattress, body rotated so her hand could explore Chaeyoung. She looked past her nose, flashing a condescending stare as she licked her lips.

“You’re such a good girl, Chaeyoung. You know your place, and have respected it for years. Does it make you feel better? Devoting your whole life to me?”

“Yes. You are my goddess. Everything I idealize.”

“You know all the right words, Chaeyoung. I staked you out since you started your blog. I didn’t reply to you on purpose. You proved your loyalty and now you will be rewarded generously.”

“You were watching me this entire time?”

Tzuyu smiled softly, her godly demeanour replaced by a bizarre maternal warmth whilst running a hand through Chaeyoung’s hair. A sickly smile, like a nurse to a dying patient before unplugging their life support; duty coupled with altruism.

“I watch over all who support me in earnest.”

Tzuyu leant forward, clasping Chaeyoung’s nipple in her mouth, tongue rolling over a sensitive nub that elicited a yelp. Her free hand toyed with the unoccupied breast, squeezing a fistful, trailing its peak and leaving with a tug of her nipple.

“Is this good?”

“Nngh… yeah…” Chaeyoung tried between Tzuyu’s grabbing, pulling and sucking. “You’re the best,”

Nipple still caught between lips, Tzuyu’s hand delicately travelled Chaeyoung’s midriff. Her fingers skirted the length of her abdomen, drawing circles on her hips, meandering across her waistline and resting, so Chaeyoung could sense a ghost of her touch, an inch above her slit.

“P-please, Tzuyu…”

“Hmm?” Tzuyu’s voice was heavy. “What is it, baby girl?”

“Touch me… please…”

“Please… who…?”

“Please, my goddess… your majesty…”

“Now that’s a good girl.”

Tzuyu rode her index and middle finger up and down Chaeyoung’s slit, pressing sharply on her clit as she twirled it in circles. Her fingers were enveloped by Chaeyoung’s pussy, drowning in moisture and a heady desire to be fucked.

“You’re so wet,” Tzuyu teased, “You want me so badly.”

“That’s right… there’s nothing – absolutely no one – I want more than you. My goddess… please…”

Tzuyu’s fingers easily slipped in. “Open wide,” Tzuyu said.

Chaeyoung wasn’t sure what Tzuyu was referring to: whether she wanted Chaeyoung’s mouth or her cunt, but before she knew it, Tzuyu had parted her legs and shoved a gag in her mouth. The stretch of her jaw made her feel warm and tight all over, like a caterpillar undergoing chrysalis. Tzuyu’s thumb was pressed flat on Chaeyoung’s clit, helping her hips grind a steady rhythm as she fingered her pussy.

“Look at you, so needy, you can’t even wait to come before I use this –” Tzuyu gestured to the strap-on, ignored, resting on one thigh. “Be obedient, Chaeyoung. I will stop for a minute – if you come, you won’t get to have this inside you. Now, if you want the strap, fuck yourself on my fingers.”

Chaeyoung whined in protest.

“Stop that. And hurry up, bitch,” Tzuyu reached a hand out to the whip and gave Chaeyoung an aggressive whack. “My free days don’t last forever,” Tzuyu said, licking the popper of her whip, “The moist ones hurt ten-fold.”

Tzuyu straddled Chaeyoung’s bare torso, whose shirt was now crumpled and bunched up above her chest. Unimpressed by Chaeyoung’s half-a-mile-per-day on her fingers, she lashed the whip, exerting a force stronger than the previous one. She watched as pain wrung through Chaeyoung’s petite body, feeling extra excitement as she noticed Chaeyoung’s breasts jiggling in rhythm with her moans.

“Do you want me to spank you until you come?” she asked, her voice sultry, unable to mask her arousal.

Despite the gag in her mouth, Chaeyoung grunted what vaguely sounded like ‘yes mistress’.

Tzuyu flipped Chaeyoung onto her front, bare ass pointed to the ceiling to accommodate Tzuyu’s fingers. Every time Chaeyoung lurched forward, it stimulated Tzuyu further. There was an insatiable lust between her thighs; almost animalistic. It got wetter and wetter, growing uncontrollable. Tzuyu was sure Chaeyoung could see her own arousal soak into the bedsheets. She wanted to ravage her, leave her mark, and brand her.

Tzuyu hastened her fingers, electing her other hand to focus on Chaeyoung’s clit. Now, Chaeyoung felt the vague spark in her lower abdomen – she was going to come, explode, overflow, like a dam during a monsoon. She did not want the night to end here. Her final goal is to have Tzuyu rail her with her gargantuan strap; even one thrust would suffice. Fortunately, Chaeyoung had mastered prompt and original thought within the confines of Tzuyu’s grasp. Something about Tzuyu sharpened her mind – IQ 123 Chaeyoung; IQ 176 Chaeyoung (with Tzuyu’s aid). Her plan to not orgasm was simple. Think of something entirely, hugely, stupendously unsexy.

So Chaeyoung, as crafty as she is, thought of Dahyun. Dahyun in her high vis jacket. Dahyun and her crass remarks. Dahyun and those unsexy white plastic bags filled with food. And it worked: the mounting climax dissolved, fleeing from the mental manifestation of orgasm thief Dahyun.

“You’re so perfect, Chaeyoung,” Tzuyu said in between ragged breaths. “I’m going to put it inside you now.”

Chaeyoung felt like she could come right then and there. She finally won the strap; Tzuyu on top, missionary. Chaeyoung’s lower half buckled skyward to meet the tip of the plastic cock. Once inside, it felt like heaven. Tzuyu had no regard for slow starts, fervently ramming Chaeyoung’s pussy, the slick of her arousal ensuring an abundance of lube. Chaeyoung moaned, melodic, rising and falling when faced with an onslaught of deep thrusts.

“Chaeyoung,” Tzuyu said, panting. “Is it alright if I film this?”

Chaeyoung, lost in ecstasy, half registered Tzuyu, mumbled a non-committal sure and waited – legs in opposite directions – for Tzuyu’s strap to re enter her gaping hole.

“Smile!”

Chaeyoung’s bangs were glued to her forehead, beads of sweat crystallized by her ears, but she mustered her best smile – intent to please Tzuyu. The camera, however, was not facing Chaeyoung. It was nowhere near Chaeyoung. Its flash highlighted Tzuyu’s face as she threw a peace sign, followed by a wave, a wormy smile extending cheek-to-cheek.

Nevertheless, confusion would bother Chaeyoung later. Tzuyu had resumed her thrusting, this time the camera remained stationary in front of Tzuyu. In between mind-shattering strokes, Chaeyoung would catch glimpses of Tzuyu admiring her own reflection whenever the phone screen tilted enough to reveal what she was looking at from the ceiling mirror.

“You’re so beautiful,” Tzuyu said, tilting her head in various angles. “Everywhere I look, all I see is beauty.”

Chaeyoung agreed, she validated Tzuyu’s narcissism. In faith, the object of adoration must be aware of their awesome glory; their fundamental status elevated above a commoner. What makes them worthy of worship is an ability to deign to followers, give them love and reward, and bestow wisdom that will pass through generations. That is what made Tzuyu amazing. She kept her public image humble and respected her individual glory in a private space. Magnanimity unrivalled, Chaeyoung was right, Tzuyu was indeed the pinnacle of humankind.

“Hello everyone!” said Tzuyu. “I’ll start the live when the viewer numbers increase.”

Somehow, Tzuyu starting a livestream amidst fucking Chaeyoung was met with little surprise. The camera was stable, cutting off a centimeter below the shoulder to convince viewers she was wearing a bardot top. As the livestream progressed, fans were addressed, meals were discussed, and future album release plans were hinted. Yet Tzuyu’s thrusts were unrelenting, accompanied by a busy hand teasing Chaeyoung’s clit.

“Oh!” Chaeyoung moaned.

“Hum. Some fans are asking what that noise was. Don’t worry everyone, the wind is loud tonight!”

And somehow that was it for Chaeyoung: for Tzuyu to acknowledge her, yet still keep her like her own little secret. Her climax hit, out loud, as Tzuyu flicked through filters.  
  
Chaeyoung’s cries eventually turned into whimpers, and then the occasional heave in between her attempts to get her breathing back. It was hard when Tzuyu had stayed inside her, giving her staccato strokes as she came down. When Chaeyoung was reduced to an unmoving mess, all her senses now desensitized from Tzuyu’s overstimulation, Tzuyu finally pulled out.

When Chaeyoung came to, Tzuyu had cast the strap aside and the V-Live was over. She fetched a blanket and a hand towel. A glass of water was now on the desk.

“You’re tired.” Tzuyu said, looking at her intently. “Drink up.”

Chaeyoung’s eyes shot open. Her senses had come back, and she realized that the command was not of ownership, but kindness. “Thank you.”

Tzuyu waited for Chaeyoung to finish drinking. She held out her palm, and Chaeyoung obediently returned the glass. Tzuyu took it with her and disappeared from the room. Probably to throw the glass away, since I’ve marked it with filth… Chaeyoung regrettably thought to herself. She stayed still on the bed and waited for Tzuyu to come back. An hour had already passed but Tzuyu still hadn’t returned; maybe she had just thought of abandoning Chaeyoung altogether. Understandable.

A little disappointed that Tzuyu was gone and the night was already coming to an end, Chaeyoung closed her eyes. If this was the last time she could be on Tzuyu’s bed, then she was going to make it count. Her hand slithered down to her cunt. With Tzuyu’s scent enveloping her from the sheets, Chaeyoung found that it was stupidly easy to come. And before she realized it, her own eyelids began to close of their own volition.

The arm around Chaeyoung’s waist tightened. Still half-asleep, Chaeyoung cleared her throat and rolled over. She looked to her side and saw that Tzuyu had buried her face in the crook of her neck. _Am I dreaming?_

“You’re awake,” Tzuyu softly murmured against her. Chaeyoung felt her lips moving against her skin.

Tzuyu’s room was illuminated by the rays of the sun. It was now 8 in the morning, and surely Tzuyu had important events to attend to. Chaeyoung cleared her throat. Albeit difficult, she squirmed, slightly, to try to remove herself from Tzuyu’s grip. Alas, it was futile. Tzuyu had tightened her grip again, like she was trying to keep Chaeyoung’s torso in a chokehold. “Just where do you think you’re going?”

Chaeyoung froze. “I’m sorry, Tzuyu. I figured I must be bothering you here. I should take my leave now…”

She felt Tzuyu’s grip on her stomach loosen. “Chaeyoung…” She sullenly said.

“Yeah?”

Tzuyu’s expression contorted into something undecipherable. Chaeyoung’s stomach twisted in fear. This was it. This was the moment Tzuyu would kick her out, banish her from the world, and ultimately decide that Chaeyoung had not been worth her time. “Why are you squirming? Am I disgusting? Do you... not like me anymore?”

Chaeyoung bolted upright, “Of course not! I love you, Tzuyu! I always will…”

“Good.” A smile immediately spread on Tzuyu’s face.

Chaeyoung blushed. “So… you didn’t think of me as a fling?” She hesitantly asked, unsure where her boundaries with Tzuyu stood. “I had heard rumors that you slept with some fans, but…”

“Please, do go on,” Tzuyu taunted, “but? But what?”

“I never believed them! I fought everybody who would say such slander about you. I would track down their numbers and addresses and release them on the Internet as punishment for doing such a vile act,” Chaeyoung said. She had a serious look on her face. The suffering she brought upon Tzuyu’s enemies (and, by extension, her enemies as well) somehow brought her pleasure, like her hard work for Tzuyu coming to fruition. They deserved it. “Please, believe me. I’d never get sick of you, Tzuyu.”

Tzuyu stared at her for a few seconds until she burst out into a loud, hearty laugh. It was music to Chaeyoung’s ears.

Yet, Chaeyoung didn’t let her finish; if she could make Tzuyu laugh like that, then she’d do anything, and prolong it for as long as she could. “Yes. On top of that, I heard that whenever you did, they would disappear, forever. That you were a sort of idol-abductor. There were names, and, if I were to be honest, some concrete-looking evidence. Of course, I got rid of all that for you. I learned how to infiltrate government databases and wiped them all out. Now, nobody will remember their names. Only I will.” Chaeyoung swallowed. She wanted to prove her allegiance to Tzuyu. It seemed to work, because Tzuyu had calmed down from her laughter now. “And, if the rumors are true, then you will, too.”

Tzuyu had an amused look on her face. “And what are those names, then?”

“Yoo Jeongyeon; Park Jihyo; Hirai Momo; Minatozaki Sana; Myoui Mina; and last night’s driver– Im Nayeon.”

Tzuyu put her hand on Chaeyoung’s shoulder, and Chaeyoung was forced to lie down on her back again. “Kiss me.”

And Chaeyoung did like that—kisses from Tzuyu, in particular. No woman’s tongue inside her mouth would give her the same pleasure that Tzuyu’s did.

When Tzuyu had decided that Chaeyoung had enough, she completely closed her mouth. Chaeyoung obediently backed away, and stared at Tzuyu’s face; her expression was intense, like she had something to say, but she was holding back. Chaeyoung recognized that look in Tzuyu’s variety show appearances.

“What is it, Tzuyu?”

“Do you want to be with me?” Tzuyu asked intently. She removed a strand of stray hair resting atop Chaeyoung’s adorable nose.

“Yes.”

“Forever?”

“Yes.”

“Then do those rumors bother you?”

Chaeyoung looked at the crown of Tzuyu’s head in thought. She actually had to think about that. Did they bother her? That the Tzuyu she had adored for the past five years, was somehow an abductor? A kidnapper? But the thought of being held captive by Tzuyu shot excitement up her veins. It was a feeling she had never felt before. She would enjoy it, she realized, being held captive by Tzuyu. She made her decision: “No, it doesn’t bother me.”

“Good,” Tzuyu said in relief. “Be mine, Chaeyoung. That’s all I ask.”

Chaeyoung grinned as widely as she could. Her heart felt like it was going to burst out of her chest as she draped her arms over Tzuyu’s shoulders. “Yes! Of course!”  
She kissed Tzuyu again, like it would be the last time. She kissed her without inhibition, not caring about the rumored 6 other girls in Tzuyu’s basement, and not knowing that in a few moments, she was going to be one of them, too.

On the other side of the city, Dahyun entered a convenience store. She bought her morning cup of coffee and read the daily newspaper. The world is falling apart, virus mutations are springing up everywhere, and a gender-reveal party has sparked a 7,000-acre wildfire somewhere in California. It was a normal Thursday afternoon.

Dahyun headed to the old apartment building beside the commercial 7-11, donning her commercial bright orange high vis jacket. The apartment unit she headed to was only three floors above, but she still decided to ride the elevator; the plastic bags of packed food she was made to deliver were heavy, so much so that even standing stationary had strained her forearms. The elevator’s ding snapped her out of her thoughts, and the rusted metal doors were now opening in front of her.

Floor 4.

The old elevator was surprisingly quick. She walked over to the familiar Unit 423. Dahyun carefully placed down the plastic bags on the floor. She fished her pockets for a key, somewhere, but to no avail. She must have forgotten it at home today. Oh well. She knocked on the tall door: once, twice, thrice.

“Chaeyoung?” She yelled from outside. She was met with silence and the stillness of Chaeyoung’s assembly of Tzuyu merchandise. She knocked again. Chaeyoung must have overslept, but that’s alright. Chaeyoung should probably be fine, right? Dahyun decided that she was. She dutifully placed the plastic bags by the door, retrieved her clipboard from her backpack and checked the tiny boxes in routine.

“I guess she just isn’t home today.”

Son Chaeyoung had always been a big fan of Chou Tzuyu, after all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> now wasnt that quite something?  
> this fic was purely self indulgent. sometimes u just wanna write funny things :>
> 
> @chaeyoungmoney;@jihyospetfish

**Author's Note:**

> thanks for reading!!! chapter 2 to be posted real soon :D and yes the title is from nicki minaj's moment 4 life. 
> 
> thanks u @upokime for betaing!!! and @jihyospetfish for writing this with me :) 
> 
> @chaeyoungmoney


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